


The Shape of Smoke

by Bazylia_de_Grean



Series: Adra Bán [7]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-01 23:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16774654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazylia_de_Grean/pseuds/Bazylia_de_Grean
Summary: “Is today even your real birthday, or did you just pick a convenient date to make people focus on something else?”“No, it’s really my birthday. So don’t worry, all your wishes and gifts count,” she replies, making Edér laugh. “Part of the reason my parents considered me a gift from Eothas. Good harvest, Gaun’s mercy and all that. But convenient, yes.”“Gaun’s mercy,” Edér comments.They do not laugh this time, just look at each other and exchange smiles that are tinged with bitterness.





	The Shape of Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> (Prompt: birthday.)

The small parcel feels too heavy in her hands. Heavy with guilt and shame for giving in to a weakness. With a sigh, Eidis puts it away, tucks it into a chest where she keeps her clothes. Halfway towards the door she remembers what a terrible idea that is – nothing keeps the smell of incense for weeks better than fabric – but there are footsteps in the corridor and she hastily leaves her chambers. It would not befit the thayna of Caed Nua to be late for the Inauton festivities, especially if her own birthday celebration is a part of those.

She closes the door to her rooms, and briefly closes her eyes, too. So it will be like last year all over again. And two years ago. And... It has been over twenty years. High time she finally let it rest. Except that she cannot.

Tegwen sniffs at her slightly, but says nothing. There are things the druids has learnt not to comment on, and this is one of them. But words are not needed – the expression on the elf’s face says everything. The disapproval is not aimed at Eidis, just at a shadow of her past... but still, it is not pleasant.

“I’m sorry,” Tegwen says finally, shaking her head. “It’s not...”

Eidis smiles weakly. “I know you mean well.”

“That’s never stopped me from being unpleasant about it when I wanted to,” the druid replies, and they both laugh. “You should work on that smile,” Tegwen adds after a moment. “It’ll fool most people, but not your old friends, you know.”

“Edér is here?” Eidis asks, beaming.

“Yes. Brought a few bottles with him, as usual.” Tegwen smiles. “No better way to celebrate than with fine mead, eh?”

* * *

There is mead, and plenty of food – bread, cheese, meats, honey cakes – simple country food, befitting a harvest festival. Lots of lights, and even Rauatai fireworks – a new invention, brought by Kana a month ago, during his travel across Dyrwood, but too expensive for a mere scholar to acquire. No, Kana brought new songs as a gift. He also brought a note.

_Sleep well, stay safe, gods be with you._

No signature, but she knew it was from Aloth. Whenever he was right now. They have never discussed it, but they had an unspoken agreement – that it was safer for both if she would not know where he was, that it was better for her not to know. And that Iselmyr was there to give him a tongue-lashing should he ever need one. The weirdest of friendships. But Eidis understood better than anyone else why he would rather keeps his friends in the dark.

There is a creak of door opening, and Edér walks out, joining her on the battlements.

“Huh, higher than I remember.” He’s not panting, but breathing a little heavily. Age slowly catching up with him. “Cheer up, lass.” He approaches her with a cup of mead. “Won’t change your mind about dancing, will you?” he asked, grinning.

Eidis shakes her head, but she is laughing. “No, no, no. I can’t dance, you know that.”

“Won’t stop me from trying to talk you into it.”

They look down and the dancing and cheering crowd. Eidis sips the mead slowly, enjoying the warmth spreading through her body.

“Is today even your real birthday, or did you just pick a convenient date to make people focus on something else?” He is smiling at her and his tone is light, but his eyes – his eyes are serious.

“No, it’s really my birthday. So don’t worry, all your wishes and gifts count,” she replies, making Edér laugh. “Part of the reason my parents considered me a gift from Eothas. Good harvest, Gaun’s mercy and all that. But convenient, yes.”

“Gaun’s mercy,” Edér comments.

They do not laugh this time, just look at each other and exchange smiles that are tinged with bitterness, but perhaps are all the more honest for it.

“You haven’t aged a day, you know. Ever since...”

“Breith Eaman,” she supplies calmly, using the Engwithan name. The only accurate name, she supposes. But it has been long enough for her to make peace with the sound of those words and the memories they bring, at least. There is no pain, just gentle sorrow.

“A reward from Berath?”

“Or a punishment. You never know.”

“Death in life and all that,” Edér says and laughs. Many things he made peace with as well. He has always said there was nothing like watching children grow to make one aware of how quickly time flies.

For a moment, they drink in pensive, but comfortable silence.

“How’s your family?” Eidis asks, smiling.

“Loud.” Edér laughs. “Seriously, though, we’re good. Aslaug is busy scaring the unlucky boys trying to woo our little girl, Lys. No idea what they’re afraid of, you know how sweet and gentle my wife is.” He laughs again. “And our boys are probably turning Defiance Bay girls’ heads. Oh, and Roan’s getting married in spring.” Edér rolls his eyes. “Makes me feel old, that’s what I tell him.”

“And how’s Dyrford?”

“We’re doing fine. _We_ ’re doing fine,” he repeats, putting more accent on the first word, and she knows he means Eothasians. “You still have that chapel? That one in the Paths?”

Eidis nods. “We can pray together later,” she offers, with a soft smile.

“I’d be glad to.”

Silently, they toast to that and empty their cups. Then Edér puts his hand – still strong, but wrinkled now – on her shoulder.

“Happy birthday, lass. Hope you like the mead.”

“That’s why I ask for it every year.” Eidis smiles at him briefly. “You’ve been one of the best gifts the fate has ever graced me with,” she adds quietly. “Thank you. For your friendship.”

Edér looks at her, and for a moment, before he covers it with jokes, she can glimpse how much her words have moved him.

“You’re welcome. Always.”

Eidis hugs him. Edér pats her back, exaggerating each gesture and intentionally making it awkward so they can laugh at it all. She has not forgotten, and probably neither has he, but life has moved on, and the kindest thing they could have done for each other was parting ways so quickly.

“You should come visit us one day, you know. My kids miss their auntie.” Edér winks at her. “Though the gifts you used to bring them might’ve had a part in that.”

Eidis laughs. “I’d love to. Later in the autumn?”

“You better do. Or Aslaug won’t forgive you.” Edér grins. “Alright, lass, you don’t dance... But how about watching me dance with Tegwen? Looks pretty fierce, but she doesn’t bite, does she?”

“In her stelgaer form,” Eidis replies merrily. “But it would make dancing difficult, four paws and all, so I think you’re safe.”

* * *

It is very late when she finally returns to her chambers. She washes quickly, changes into her nightgown, combs her hair and braids it again.

Eidis hesitates for a while, but eventually reaches into the chest. Slowly, she unwraps a small piece of adra incense. Foolishness, and an expensive one at that. But it is her birthday, and she feels that there is no better time of year to indulge herself. Just a little.

She puts the incense on a small tray and lights it. For a while, she watches the small tendrils of smoke. Then she slips into the bed, under the sheets and woollen blankets, and, closing her eyes, she inhales the scent.

Amusing, really, how the only memories she cannot make peace with are the happy ones.


End file.
